Fullmetal Professor
by Taneya
Summary: Edward didn't think much of people who couldn't be bothered to do their own dirty work. But then, the Gate of Alchemy wasn't really much of a person, and Edward didn't have much of a choice. Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter crossover
1. Chapter One: An Alchemist Turned Wizard

Fullmetal…Professor?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. If you're crazy enough to think I did, you're crazy enough to be my friend. Welcome to Mushroom Land.

Summary: Edward Elric didn't think much of people who couldn't be bothered to do their own dirty work. But then, the Gate of Alchemy wasn't really much of a person. When the Fullmetal Alchemist is thrown into a world where equivalent exchange means nothing, he is understandably upset. Desperate, he summons the Gate. However, instead of taking him home or taking his life, the Gate changes the flow of time around Edward and tells him to learn all he can of this world's power; it will summon him when he's ready. Having gained a cryptic message and lost nothing but a few pounds, Edward isn't sure whether his new extremely slowed aging is a loss or a gain. He discovers the world of magic, and gains knowledge and skill in all its aspects. One night while aimlesslessly going through library books, the Gate appears and drops him about eighty years into the future. Arriving just in time to hear of Voldemort's return, he is left with a mission from the Gate itself; destroy Voldemort, who is disrupting the fabric of reality and going against the Gate's law. Once Voldemort is dead, Ed can go home. Edward spends the summer re-acquanting himself with the world, and manages to gain Dumbledore's trust as well as a job. It's Harry Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts, and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is none other than Edward Elric. (Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter crossover)

Now, a word from Edward, the newly titled Fullmetal...Professor?

_Yeah, that's right. Got a problem with it? I, Edward Elric, am now in charge of my very own band of stick-waving, gibberish-chanting, gawking little idiots. On top of that, I can't go home to my own world until I help a scar-headed, angst-filled teenager defeat an evil dark lord._

_…_

_…My life is now complete._

Chapter One: The Alchemist Turned Wizard

'I hate my life. Please, just kill me now.' The thinker of these particular spectacularly morbid thoughts rolled over, coughed weakly, and mumbled something rather unintelligible. One with absolutely excellent hearing and a vast amount of skill in translating gibberish _might_ be able to interpret the mumbling as having something to do with "evil, evil cold weather" and "stupidly vague all-powerful beings that send poor, innocent alchemists to do their dirty work". Said 'poor, innocent alchemist' was currently curled up on his side in the back seat of a rather decrepit and rusted car parked by the sidewalk on one of many London streets, being mercilessly pelted by overlarge raindrops. The constant noise of the water hitting the car roof was keeping him awake, and it had made road conditions so bad he couldn't drive even if he wanted to. And there was _no way in hell_ that he was going to go _out_ in that storm. No way, not Edward Elric. Any other stupid weirdo was free to try.

The Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People and defeater of countless transmuted beasts, soulless monsters (of both human and homunculus kind), and entire crooked organizations had been rendered completely helpless by a simple storm—a bright flash of light followed by a tremendous boom of thunder was produced to add to the growing cacophony. It was admittedly a rather bad storm, especially for the rather mild climate of Great Britain, but regardless, Edward Elric had been defeated by _weather_; and it was pissing him off. A weak kick was delivered to the door, and more mumbling was directed at the storm outside. As if to spite him, more thunder roared—his closed eyes missed the lightning. The blond alchemist groaned and grabbed two handfuls of his long hair, pulling them across his face to cover his eyes. Most of his hair was tied back in a thin ponytail with two long locks of hair left free to frame his handsome face. He was dressed in a buttoned-up white shirt and black slacks, a long brown coat wrapped around him as a makeshift blanket. To complete the look he wore plain brown shoes, pristine white gloves, and a dark belt.

Edward yawned and stretched, extending his limbs as far as the confines of the car would allow. He was both annoyed and satisfied about the fact that he couldn't stretch out all the way in this small space: annoyed because it meant he was cramped and uncomfortable; satisfied because it meant he had gotten taller. He decided to settle on being annoyed—it fit with the current atmosphere. He wished the rain would let up soon, or at least that the air would get warmer—he was _cold_, damn it. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and he swore rather viciously. Even though it had been many years since he had been introduced to the concept, this whole 'magic' thing still felt unnatural. Even though he had come to terms with it, the lack of equivalent exchange still bothered him. He supposed it shouldn't, but he couldn't help it.

He reached his hand into his right-arm sleeve, easily sliding a long, thin piece of dark wood out of its leather holder. Mumbling a few seemingly nonsensical words while making small twitching noises with the hand that held his wand, Edward sighed in relief as he felt a wave of heat flow through him, warming him in a matter of seconds. He slipped the wand back into his sleeve, making sure it was firmly in its ­­­­­­slot before he curled up again and rested his head on the door.

He waited in the backseat of the car for what he thought was probably about an hour, but he was drowsy and his sense of time was off. Just as he was about to fall asleep, his half-awake mind registered the fact that he could barely hear the rain anymore. Raising himself up with a weary groan, he looked out one of the backseat windows as he sleepily ran a gloved hand down his face. Edward grinned smugly when he saw the last tiny drops of rain drizzle on the ground, signaling the end of the storm. He got up with another groan and grabbed the handle of the car door, pulling the thing extra hard incase the old thing was stuck. Hearing the handle click, he grabbed his jacket, pushed the door open, and stepped out into the fresh, post-rain air. Taking a deep breath, the alchemist savored the pleasant smell that entered his nose. He reached his arms into the air, stretching like a cat and sighing in relief as he felt tendons and the like slide back into place. He put on his brown jacket and tugged at it a little to make sure it was on right. Taking a few small steps he opened the driver's-side door, sitting down and pulling the door shut in the same movement. He rested his hands on the steering wheel, shifting his jacket a little so he wouldn't be sitting on a clump of bunched fabric. Edward dug a key out of his pocket, fumbling with it for a moment before sliding it into its slot. He slowly pressed his foot down on the gas pedal and resumed his drive towards the Leaky Cauldron.


	2. Chapter Two: The Bartender

Disclaimer: If thou dost thinketh this humble one owneth Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter, then thou dost have far too many illegal substances in thine body.

Chapter Two: The Bartender

About half an hour, three engine stalls, one snack stop, and one bathroom break later, Edward Elric walked through the creaky door of the Leaky Cauldron. The place was dimly lit, filled with smoke and the sounds of low chatter. Clanking classes and silverware also added to the sound of the bar. Small, sparsely placed candles added to the atmosphere, and the whole place seemed rather…brown.

Shifting his dark, rectangular suitcase to his other hand, Edward strode confidently up to the bar, setting down the suitcase next to his barstool as he sit down. Lightly tapping the table to get the bartender's attention, Ed rested his elbow on the bar and set his chin on his hand. The bartender was a stooped, lanky man with yellowed teeth and thin grey hair. Keen black eyes gave Edward a once-over before they widened in recognition.

"Edward! Ed, my boy, good to see ya!" he said with a voice that could only be found in certain types of old men. "What're yeh doin' here?" the bartender, Tom, asked rather jovially. "Ain't you supposed ter be at Hogwarts right abou' now? Gettin' ready for the students and such?" Tom gave Ed a crooked smile, revealing missing and yellowed teeth.

"Ah, but I am getting ready, Tom," Edward replied coolly.

"Bein' mysterious again, eh? Well, I won't push you. I know better'n that by now." Tom leaned down behind the bar and Edward heard the soft clink of glass against glass. "The usual, I presume?" the old bartender said good-naturedly.

"Not today, Tom. I'm on a tight schedule. I was just wondering if you have any information for me?" Tom's jovial expression disappeared. Edward was beckoned with a hand and, grabbing his suitcase, discreetly led into a musty back room. Both men talked for a time, keeping their voices down and using vague, confusing code words. No matter that Edward hadn't detected any spies or spells, it never hurt to be careful. "That bad, huh?" Edward finally said. "Figures. That ministry is totally useless until it comes to getting in the way."

"Aye. Then they're more skilled than Victor Krum in a Word Cup match," the stooped veteran-turned-bartender replied. Edward gave a crooked smile at that.

"Well, I'm off. I've got lots to do." Edward walked out of the room with a wave, weaving through tables and exiting the pub out of a door opposite the one he had originally entered from. The typical bar-sounds that seemed to constantly fill the Leaky Cauldron were suddenly cut off when he shut the door. Rubbing one of his ears, Edward silently thanked magic. Walking over to a rather unimpressive looking brick wall, he took out his wand and tapped a series of bricks with the wooden tip of the magical instrument. He was unsurprised to see the bricks shift and separate, parting to give him passage into the bustling Diagon Alley.

To Edward's annoyance, the Alley was even louder than the pub, and more densely populated. This surprised him to a degree, as he would have thought the looming threat of Voldemort would have people scared out of their wits and huddling in storm-cells. He realized, though, that most of them had been brain-washed by the ministry into thinking the Dark Lord's return was nothing more than a lie—at best. At worst, it was the insane delusions of a senile old man and an emotionally unbalanced teenager, both of which were powerful enough to blow them all to the next life if they wanted to. The latter part escaped the general populace though, and they continued to mock and degrade both wizards.

Edward huffed. Sometimes the stupidity of humans never ceased to amaze him.

Shifting his suitcase to his right hand, Edward rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to relieve some of its pain. There's only so much time you can spend hunched over books at night without developing sore muscles. He began to expertly weave through the crowd towards the first destination on his schedule: Gringotts Wizarding Bank.


	3. Chapter Three: Cart Rides and Vaults

Disclaimer: We're off to see the lawyers, the terrible lawyers of coyprightAnd if you think I own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter, than you need to go and take your meds! Dah dah dah, dah dah dah duh.

Chapter Three: Cart Rides and Vaults

'Really,' Edward thought, mildly amused. 'So dramatic.' The warning to thieves seemed to shift testily above his head as he walked under the large white marble arch it was carved on. He dismissed the notion and passed through the entryway, pushing open a pair of tall double doors. A wall of sound met his ears; it was a mixture of rustling papers, many soft conversations, and the clink of scales and coins. It was like the type of sounds you heard at train stations, but without the noises the trains themselves produced.

Edward looked around awkwardly for a moment, but he soon spotted an open desk manned by a rather wicked looking goblin. Now, goblins were normally rather fearsome looking creatures, but this one looked particularly vicious. Edward wasn't worried, though; he had faced much worse than testy goblins before. Walking up the desk, Edward pulled a small key out of his pants pocket and laid it on the wood of the high desk the goblin sat behind.

"Hmm?" The goblin made a questioning noise and picked up the key, a surprised expression appearing on his face when he did. He had started lightly when he touched the small piece of metal, as if he had just received a small dose of static electricity. The goblin looked down from his high desk at Edward. The goblin glared at him with narrowed eyes and no small amount of suspicion. "Take of your gloves," he said in a rough, croaky voice. "Touch the key," it finished. Edward pulled of his left glove, and—under the close scrutiny of the goblin—reached up and grasped the small golden key. Letting go, he gave the goblin a slightly smug look. Satisfied, he ignored Edward and went through a stack of papers. Seeming to find what he was looking for, he looked back down at Edward. "My name is Soonsul. I will get someone to take you to your vault, Mr. Elric."

Soon Edward was speeding through a long system of underground passageways in a rail cart that seemed far too rickety to be safe. Accompanying him was a rather small, pinch-faced goblin called Rippole. Edward looked around excitedly with golden eyes narrowed against the air pressure caused by their speedy progress. No matter how many times he went on this ride, he still found it thrilling. Turning his head to the right, he caught a glimpse of a burst of flame, a bright silver light, and a large array of wicked looking spikes before he sped past and all three things fell out of sight. Turning his head to the left, he thought he saw a part of a long, scaled body. It vaguely occurred to him that it was rather odd he could just see these things out in the open, but he was too busy enjoying the ride to care very much.

All too soon, the cart slowed and lurched to a stop, nearly throwing Edward onto the tracks. Stepping out, he almost fell over when his right leg wobbled, unused to solid ground. Edward quickly regained his composure and hurried over to join Rippole in front of a large vault door. It had spiraling and jagged geometric strands of metal spread out over its surface, covering the entire door in mysterious designs and patterns; the metal designs sprouted from the wall around the door, holding it shut. Just low enough for a goblin to reach was a keyhole with a carved matrix around it, the hole at the center of the complex circle. Below the matrix was a round, completely flat circle of metal.

"I assume you know how to open your vault?" Rippole said hoarsely. Edward only nodded. Placing the small key in the hole, he turned it two whole rotations to the right and half a rotation to the left. Then he clapped his hands and placed his left on the unmarked metal circle. As he withdrew his hand, a tiny spike rose out of the metal; below it a small hole appeared, and a shallow metal half-dish rose from the circle. Edward tugged the glove off of his left hand and pressed his index finger against the sharp spike, drawing a small amount of blood. Withdrawing his hand, he watched as the blood dripped off the spike into the dish below, trickling towards the door into the hole. Suddenly a soft white light shone from the hole and the key—which was still in the keyhole—began to glow white as well. The metal designs began to shift and recede, pulling themselves off the surface of the door to its edges, leaving part of the metal surface flat and smooth. The unmarked space was about the size of door normal doors put next to each other; the unmarked space began to break apart, the metal shifting to create a raised border around the newly made entryway.

The whole process took about ten seconds. Edward stepped through the whole in the door into the Elric Family Vault. He and his father had designed, filled, and had helped create this vault themselves—back in the day. Before all this messed-up-time and evil-dark-lord business. Aside from Gringotts goblins, they were the only ones who could open the vault door.

The vault was filled with many piles of gold galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts. For one person's use, it seemed like a rather ridiculous amount of money; however, compared to a certain Potter's vault, this was a child's allowance. Though Edward and Hohenheim had had many years to gather this money (Edward having considerably more time than his father), it was still a somewhat impressive amount. What was really interesting—and from some perspectives, much more valuable—was the large number of objects the vault contained. There were incredibly powerful magical artifacts, muggle machines and oddities, many magical trinkets and devices, an absolutely jaw-dropping number of books, and a rather alarming number of items that looked like pure junk. There were mountains of things, colorful and old and broken and gleaming like new. Swords, shields, and armor littered the floor; cloaks and shirts and dresses and pants and boots had their own separate mountain in one corner of the enormous vault-room. Mirrors, clocks, scales, and cauldrons were scattered around the clothes mountain. Almost an entire half of the room was dedicated to stacks and stacks of books. Small collapsed mountains, perilously tipping stacks that almost reached the ceiling, and walls of pure books that seemed to form a maze one could get lost in for hours—days if one was somewhat stupid. There were rather vicious looking devices with questionable purpose, and many useless looking items such as tea sets and old newspapers. The small piles of currency were scattered haphazardly amidst all the items, looking rather small and unimportant in comparison.

Pulling out a charmed moneybag from one of his coat's many inside pockets, Edward gathered several handfuls of wizarding currency. Replacing the bag in its designated pocket, Edward crawled over a few mountains of stuff, seemingly searching for something. Rippole glanced in through the opening somewhat curiously, but quickly returned to his post by the door, making sure no unsavory persons took advantage of the open vault door.

A triumphant cry rang out from somewhere behind a pile of weaponry and bottled liquids. "Here it is," Edward crowed. Then he squawked indignantly when whatever he had been doing disturbed the pile's delicate balance, shifting a large amount of material that slid off in several large clouds of dust. From the sound of it, some of it landed on Edward. Metal scraped and clanged, and Edward emerged from behind the pile, covered in dust and coughing lightly.

'And there's one of the disadvantages of leaving a place like this alone for eighty years.' Edward thought before a coughing fit derailed his thoughts. Looking down at his prizes, Edward grinned. One was a small silver ring worked in the shape of many interwoven vines. Framed by small silver leaves was a tiny, smooth, bright gold stone; it was almost the exact same color as Edward's eyes. The other object was a beautiful necklace: it had a long chain that looked more like silver cord than linked metal, with a small hook-clasp; the pendant was a small sphere made of a reddish-purple material that seemed to shine with an inner fire, kept on the chain by thin silver wire wrapped around it like clouds seen on the planet from space. Edward put the necklace on, lifting his hair from underneath the chain and tucking the pendent under his shirt; it was warm against his skin. Sliding the ring over his glove on his left index finger, Edward approached the hole in the door and stepped out of the vault. He turned around and clapped his hands once, placing them against the door. It returned to its former state in a flare of alchemic light. Edward removed the key, put it in one of his many hidden pockets, and turned to Rippole with a grin.

He was looking forward to riding in the cart again.


	4. Chapter Four: Chosen Twice

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter. If I did, I would not be writing this fanfic. I would be lounging around in Hawaii talking to parrots and eating starfruit.

Chapter Four: Chosen Twice

Edward sighed somewhat disappointedly when the cart stopped. Those rides were _so_ fun. He stepped out a little reluctantly and exited the tunnel system. Picking up his suitcase by the door where he had left it, Edward walked through the main hall and out through the double doors, blinking against the bright evening sunlight. "Alright," he sighed. "Just a few stops, and then I go back to the Leaky Cauldron until tomorrow. And tomorrow the Express leaves." He sighed again. 'Cutting it a little close, aren't we?' he silently admonished himself. The crowd of shoppers had thinned significantly, which he was grateful for. Plus, these people seemed much quieter in general. Maybe it was just the atmosphere, but Edward was glad either way; he liked quiet.

The alchemist easily made his way towards Ollivander's. Opening the door, which was made mostly of framed glass, Edward heard a bell ring. Shutting the door made the bell ring more and tap against the glass. "Hello?" Edward called, dragging out the 'o' sound. He set down his suitcase by the door, stepping further into the darkness of the old wand shop.

"Yes…?" a rather creepy sounding voice replied. The owner of the voice emerged from the shadows, accompanied by the sound of a door opening and closing quietly. He was partly bald, his remaining hair wispy and white. Ollivander's face was lined and weathered, and his moves were slow from age. "Ah, Mr. Elric. Dumbledore," he said breathily, "has told me much about you. Are you here to get your wand a tune-up?" Edward shook his head.

"I'm here for a wand."

"Oh, dear. Has something happened to yours?" Edward shook his head again. He put his hand into his sleeve and drew out his long, dark wand.

"My wand is fine." When Ollivander held out a hand, Edward complied with the unspoken request and placed his wand in the frail hand.

As he examined the wand, Ollivander asked curiously, "Then what could you possibly need a new wand for?"

"Not exactly a _new_ wand, if you get my meaning. _Another_ one." Ollivander looked up at him sharply.

"You wish to have more than one wand? That seems somewhat presumptuous." He went back to studying the wand. "In all my years, I have never seen a wand choose a wizard or witch that another wand has already claimed." Slowly looking back up from the wand, Ollivander asked, "What makes you think another wand will choose you when this one already has?" Holding out the wand to him, Ollivander slightly ruined the effect of his dramatic words by adding, "Beautiful wand. Fourteen inches, _ironwood_, very unusual, very inflexible, and the core…whoever made this wand was quite the experimenter. I've don't believe I've seen a real ironwood wand before, and I don't think I've _ever_ seen a thestral-hair core used in a functioning wand." Ollivander gave him a serious look. "_Why_ do you want another wand?"

"I'm just worried that something might happen to this one. It never hurts to be careful, and it would be just my luck for something to happen to this when I need it most. Having a spare in reserve might save my life. And if my theory is correct, it could drastically increase my magical power and become an enormous help in my research."

Ollivander looked at him suspiciously. "What exactly do you think you'll be doing, boy? This is _ironwood_." Ollivander stressed the last word a bit too heavily, as if he were trying to educate an extremely stupid person. "It's the densest wood there is; it's the only wood in the world that sinks in water. It's almost rock hard. If you wanted to, you could bash someone's head in with that," he added, gesturing to the wand in Edward's gloved hand. "I ask you, what do you think is going to happen to it?"

"It's not that I think harm will come to it; there are simply many different scenarios that could result in my not being able to use it. It could sink in water, or fall somewhere, or I could get disarmed. There are thousands of possibilities, and I want to be as prepared as I can for all of them." Edward looked him in the eye, bright gold meeting faded blue. "I don't expect for a wand to accept me, but I don't want to have the possibility one _might_ have hanging over my head when I'm in a bind."

Ollivander nodded his consent, and instructed Edward to take off his gloves. An animated tape measure began to measure Edward, even parts of him he really doubted mattered when it came to choosing wands—such as the circumference of his head. The old wandmaker went prowling through shelves and rows and box after box of wands. He gave several to Edward, only to snatch them away before the blond could even wave them. After what seemed like hours, Ollivander finally gave a triumphant huff and approached Edward with a sleek, black, rectangular box just large enough to hold a wand. Ollivander held it out to him wordlessly.

Nodding, Edward took the box and removed its lid. It was mostly black, with streaks of dark brown concentrated mostly on the handle. It was shorter than Edward's ironwood wand, and he doubted it was a structurally strong—mostly because ironwood was known as the toughest wood there was. He looked up at Ollivander, almost as if asking for permission. The old man nodded slightly, and Edward reached into the box. Grasping the wand gently, he felt a rush of energy enter his body from where his fingers touched the dark wood; it spread through his hand, up his arm, and across his chest. The sensation—both warm and tingling cool—filled his entire body, lifting his hair and clothes in a nonexistent breeze. After several unreal, mind-numbing seconds, the feeling subsided and Edward was left firmly holding the dark wood in his gloved hand.

"Well, give it a wave," Ollivander said somewhat distractedly with an awed expression on his face. Edward raised an eyebrow and moved his wrist downward in a graceful arc, producing a beautiful shower of blue and white sparks. Ollivander waved his own wand in a tired motion, conjuring a simple chair that he sat down on with a tired sigh. "I must say, Mr. Elric, you are truly a rather unusual man." Ollivander brought a wrinkled hand to his forehead and ran it down his lined face. "Not only did that wand accept you, it produced one of the most powerful reactions I've ever seen." Giving Edward a weak smile, he said, "You seem to have some quality that makes you strangely attractive to unusual wands. First that ironwood-thestral-hair wand of yours, now this one." Edward cocked his head to the side in silent question. "Eleven and a half inches, ebony. Ebony is very rare and costly these days, and it is not often used for wand making as it is well known for accepting very few people. The core of that wand is also unusual, I'm not quite sure what I was thinking when I chose it. It's experimental concentrated basilisk venom."

"Basilisk venom…?" Edward questioned, somewhat uneasily.

"Yes. Incredibly powerful, but requires much skill to handle properly. If you are sufficiently skilled, this beauty could also be as precise as a sphinx-hair wand. That other wand of yours is even more powerful, more durable too, but I'm not sure you could get the same accuracy as this one can produce. I'm unsure of the specific properties of both of these, because they're both so incredibly unique." Standing up, Ollivander went over to the cashier's counter. "Now, normally I'd charge you extra seeing as the materials were so expensive, but this wand has been sitting around for such a long time I was afraid it would never sell. As thanks for taking this little beauty out into the world, I'll charge you standard price."

Edward thanked him, and produced the correct amount of money. He laid it on the counter, and Ollivander boxed and wrapped the wand for him. Placing the package in one of his pockets, Edward retrieved his suitcase by the door and made to leave.

"One last thing, Mr. Elric," Ollivander said, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around with a questioning look on his face. "You have a lot of power in your possession. Use it with good intentions and wise judgment." Edward didn't reply, only nodding and opening the door with the sound of a jingling bell.


	5. Chapter Five: Partner

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and Harry Potter do not belong to me. Somnel, however, does.

Chapter Five: Partner

"No matter how many times I deal with them, wand-makers are always a little creepy," Edward muttered to himself as he walked away from Ollivander's. He raised a hand to his brow to block out the bright golden sun, shining almost directly into his eyes from its place on the horizon. "Sun's setting. I didn't think I spent quite so long in there. Guess I should get going." Much to Edward's delight, the later hour had thinned the crowd of shoppers even more, and there were only a few people wandering about the alley. Edward knew that the crowds would soon pick up again for the early-night rush, so he picked up his pace and jogged down the cobbled street to the Magical Menagerie.

Edward noted with slight bemusement that the Menagerie's door had a bell as well. He was met with the sounds of many animals of varying species and states of awareness. There were bird screeches, mainly from owls; normal looking and strange dogs of all sizes barked and yipped; cats meowed, purred, and growled. A door behind the front desk opened and a harried-looking employee appeared, most likely from some backroom. He was a sallow-skinned young man with mussed brown hair and dark circles around his eyes; he wore a dark grey shirt and pants topped with a stained and torn apron, the original color of which was undeterminable. The man was covered in scratches, bruises, and gave off a rather unpleasant smell.

"Hello," he panted, doing his best to seem at least somewhat professional. He failed miserably. "Welcome to the Magical Menagerie of Diagon Alley. How may I help you?"

Edward raised an eyebrow at him, feeling no small amount of pity for the ragged man. "I'm looking for a familiar."

"Ah, yes. Did you have anything in mind?"

"No, my plan was to wander around until something caught my eye."

"Oh," said the man, sounding relieved and put out at the same time. "If you need anything, I'll be in the back. You can ring the bell," he said, gesturing to a small silver bell on the desk like the type seen in hotels, "or you can just give a holler. I hope you find everything well."

"I'm sure I will, thank you," Edward replied just before the door closed behind the employee. Looking around, Edward set his suitcase down and decided to circle the perimeter first, working his way inward. As he walked he saw many interesting things that he would have like to examine, but he was waiting until he found something that truly struck him. Some of the things that he passed over included a curious screech owl, a long black and red snake, and a steel grey kitten with gold eyes that reminded him of Alphonse. When he finally found what he was looking for, he almost passed over it. The animal was in a small case in a corner of the main room, tucked behind a glass case holding a family of jumping spiders. As he walked past he felt a slight tug at his mind. Turning his head sharply, he narrowed his golden eyes in suspicion and anticipation. He crouched in front of the cage, pushing the case of spiders aside and not even wincing at the dull smack one created when it smacked against the glass trying to leap at him. Edward looked inside the cage with bright golden eyes, quickly examining and studying.

The creature was a dull red, the type that was obviously a faded version of what must have once been a crimson splendor. The creature was covered in tiny, bead like scales that created a hide that was almost impenetrable. Even the creature's underbelly, visible due the creature's position of lying on its side, appeared to be tougher than any snake's skin. Shorter than a snake but too slender for a lizard, it appeared to be a miniature version of a Chinese dragon. It had strong looking hind legs and shorter limbs in the front that seemed like arms. The arms seemed to be built more for holding things, but all the creature's limbs seemed to have a strange, complex bone structure and were armed with a set of wicket looking claws. The creature's head was elegant and shaped somewhat like a pear. It had small holes for ears, slits for nostrils, and—Edward could see through its slightly open mouth—a fierce-looking set of sharp, silver teeth. Its eyes were closed; the creature had eyelids, unlike some of its (Edward guessed) reptilian family. The creature was about three and a half feet long from nose to tail, with about a third of its body-length comprised of tail alone.

Sensing that it was being watched, the creature slowly shifted in a rustle of scales against the paper that lined the bottom of its cage. Its head now facing Edward, one almond shaped eye ever so slowly slid open to stare at the alchemist. The eye was a brilliant gold, duller and of a darker shade than Edward's own eyes. Though glazed and slightly unfocused, the eye was sharp with intelligence and acutely aware.

"**What are you looking at, human?**" Edward started when he heard the voice. It was quiet and weak, and was accompanied by the slight movement of the creature's fanged mouth. What was even odder than the fact that the creature was actually speaking was the fact that its mouth movements did not match its speech, the jaw merely moving up and down in approximately the same time as the creature spoke. "**Though it's impressive you noticed me, I have no time for a creature such as yourself.**" It didn't realize the irony of calling Edward a 'creature', as that was how he had been referring to it in his mind.

"Who are you?" Edward asked, awed. "_What_ are you?"

"**It is none of your business who or what I am, human.**"

Edward scowled at it. "I think it is my business. You said it was impressive I noticed you. Why is that?" The creature seemed to scowl.

"**I see you will not simply leave unless I tell you **_**something**_**. Stubborn human,**" it grumbled. "**Fine. I am what your kind would call a kaivul.**"

"A what?" Edward asked, confused.

"**A kaivul, stupid human!**" it snarled. "**If you want me to speak to you, you will not interrupt!**" It was baring its fangs in anger, making a low growling sound in its throat. In its fury it had stood up on all fours, and its tail was lashing in anger.

"I'm sorry," Edward said respectively. "Please continue."

"**That's better,**" it huffed, sitting back down and ceasing its growing, though its tail still twitched in irritation. "**My kind are a rare breed these days, our numbers decreased from the times we were hunted for the magical properties our bodies hold.**" Edward's eyes softened in sympathy.

"My condolences," he said. "Humans have a history of being very foolish."

"**I'm surprised you admit that so willingly, **_**human.**_** Now leave me be. Talking in your tongue makes my jaw hurt. I don't know how you creatures don't break teeth with this drivel.**" With that, the dragon look-alike rested its head on the cage bottom and curled up like a cat.

'Is this better?' the creature heard in its head, spoken in Edward's voice.

The kaivul instantly got up and charged at Edward, trying to push its jaws out through the cage bars to take a bite out of the blond. '**HOW?!**' the creature's voice roared in Edward's mind. '**How could a mere **_**human**_** be able to speak mind-to-mind?!**'

'Humans know it as legilimancy. They use it as a weapon to invade each other's minds and learn each other's secrets,' Edward replied, his mental voice sounding somewhat strained to the kaivul.

'**I believe you are referring to establishing contact between minds. Lucid communication requires much more skill and power than simple invasion.**' The kaivul sounded much calmer, to Edward's relief.

'It does,' Edward agreed, his mental voice sounding even more stressed. 'Speaking of which, can I talk out loud now?' Edward received a regal nod in reply. He sighed with relief. There was a long silence as the kaivul seemed to think something over. Edward shifted uncomfortably, when the creature looked intensely and deeply into his eyes, seeming to have made a decision.

'**Human…do you want me to become your partner?**' It asked solemnly.

"Huh?" was Edward's _intelligent_ reply.

'**I will be no one's pet or servant, but you intrigue me. I would be willing to become your partner. If you agree to this, our minds will become linked and communicating mind-to-mind between us will be as easy as breathing.**'

"Why are you offering this to me?" Edward asked, instinctively knowing that this was a great honor.

'**One, it will get me out of this god-forsaken cage. Two, you are one of the most interesting beings I've met in over a century.**' Edward's eyes widened in awe. One, this creature—_kaivul_, his mind supplied—was over a hundred years old, and two, it found _him_ interesting!

Not needing a second longer to think, Edward replied, "Yes."

'**Hold on a moment, human. How do you know you can trust me?**' it asked. **'**_**I don't want to have an idiot for a partner,**_' it thought, though it didn't project the idea to Edward.

"I don't," he replied. "But I've lived long enough to know I should trust my instincts." The kaivul nodded in approval.

'**Alright human, now come here.**' Edward complied. '**This will feel strange, and depending on how strong our bond is it could be painful.**' The kaivul stuck its muzzle as far towards Edward as the cage would allow. Edward, sensing what the kaivul wanted, leaned his head forward until he was close enough for the kaivul to touch. It pressed its scaled nose against Edward's forehead. '**One last thing before I bond us…What is your name?**'

Slightly surprised, he mentally responded, 'Edward Elric.'

'**I am Somnel.**' That was the last thing Edward heard before his vision went white and he passed out.


	6. Chapter Six: Mental Bond

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter. I own a nasty attitude am owned by three cats.

Chapter Six: Mental Bond

Thousands of images flew past his eyes, as well as sounds and ideas; like his experiences with the Gate, he was able to instantly comprehend them. Unfortunately, also reminiscent of his experiences with the Gate of Alchemy, the enormous amount of information being forced into his mind made him feel like he was about to explode. The pressure was almost unbearable. Looking more closely, hoping to latch onto a single image or idea as a lifeline, he realized most of the images were from his own life. Edward saw himself playing with Alphonse and Winry in his hometown of Resembool, taking the State Alchemist's exam, and fighting with Russel Tringham; he saw the town of Xenotime, Lior, and the ruins of Ishbal; fights and deals with the homunculi swam before his eyes. More than sixty years worth of memories of this world beyond the gate were almost forgotten in the face of his powerful memories from his times in Amestris, and the times he spent with his brother.

Aside from his own experiences, he saw confusing flashes of a life seen through vision tinted slightly red and rather closer to the ground than he was used to. He experienced slithering through caves, crawling through muck, and fighting viciously with large mammals that thought he would make a good meal.

The visions abruptly receded, leaving instead a searing pain throughout his entire being. Though he had never screamed during automail surgery—a procedure known to make even hardened war heroes cry for their mommies—if he could have located his mouth and vocal cords he would have screamed until his voice ran out. Just before he lost all awareness, he saw two things. One, the gate and the non-human person that spoke as its voice, the thing that now had his missing limbs attached to its torso; and two, he saw a dark blond, amber eyed teenager in black clothes and a red coat. Alphonse looked up at the sky, shock on his face, his mouth forming one silent word: "Brother?"

The first thing Edward noticed when he regained consciousness was that he was lying down. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying _face _down, on something hard and flat. The third thing he noticed was that he was sore all over, with the ports of his false arm and leg stinging fiercely. Putting his hands flat on the floor, he pushed himself up and got into a more comfortable sitting position. Rubbing his temples, Edward tried to ease his pounding headache and reorient himself. A gutteral growl derailed his already scrambled thoughts, and he looked towards the source of the sound.

Somnel was flopped down on his back inside his cage, growling deep in his throat and shifting like someone who didn't want to get up but knew they had to. The kaivul's scales were a rosy, washed out pink. Even though he was lying down, his whole body seemed to droop more than it should.

"Somnel?" Edward muttered, sounding just as tired and confused as he felt.

'**That Gate doesn't know how to mind its own business…**' Somnel growled, eyes shut tightly as he yawned hugely. Turning on his side, he addressed Edward. '**But then, you don't either. I guess you started it.**'

"What do you mean?" Edward asked sleepily.

'**It makes sense now, how you were able to sense me and speak mind-to-mind,**' Somnel said, ignoring Edward's question. Somnel gave him an accusatory glare. '**You cheated.**'

"How so?"

Somnel nodded his head towards Edward. '**That necklace you have under your shirt, and that ring on your finger.**' He paused, as if trying to remember something. '**That thing hanging from your ear and that stick strapped to your arm, too,**' Somnel added, referring to the slightly dangling, barely noticeable red drop hanging from Edward's left ear and the ironwood wand strapped to the underside of his prosthetic arm. '**All of them were boosting your power and your senses.**' The kaivul gave him a long look. '**Without those things you're actually rather average, am I right? At least in terms of magical power.**'

Edward gave a somewhat sheepish smile. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "I cheat sure as a politician in an election." Edward paused for a moment, and an awkward silence filled the air. "Ahem…so…uh, what now?" he asked the kaivul.

Somnel huffed. '**You get me out of this place—and you're not buying me, you're…paying for my freedom—and then we find lodgings for tonight. We get some rest, and then take whatever comes to us.**'

Edward looked at him strangely. "You certainly like to make…odd plans." Stretching his neck, he added, "I already have plans for tonight, and I know where we're going tomorrow."

'**Good, good. You're at least somewhat competent.**' Ignoring Edward's light protests at his barely concealed insult, Somnel continued, '**By the way, you should be able to speak mind-to-mind with me easily now.**'

Edward looked a bit nervous, but he bit his lip and closed his angular golden eyes. 'Somnel?' he asked cautiously, hearing his mental voice distort and echo.

'**Yes, Edward, I hear you. Try to have a bit more confidence, though, and speak louder!**' Somnel encouraged.

'How do you speak louder?' Edward asked, surprised at the clarity and volume of his own voice.

'**Like that,**' Somnel said approvingly.

'Wow…why is it so much easier? I don't feel any drain on my power at all, and I don't have to concentrate so much!' He paused, confused by the amount of emotion showing in his mental voice. He was usually much more controlled than this.

'**It's because of the bond we just established. If you try speaking mind-to-mind with anyone but me it will be just as difficult as before, but between the two of us it's about as easy and conscious as breathing.**' Somnel looked tiredly up at Edward. '**Well, come on. Get me out of here.**' Obeying the un_spoken_ demand, Edward grasped the handle of the cage and—doing his best to not make Somnel slide around—walked through the store (which Edward thought seemed more like a maze) and approached the cashier counter. Seeing the small silver bell on the desk the harried employee had gestured to earlier, he rang it and set Somnel's cage on the desktop.

Edward only had to wait for a grand total of five and a half seconds before he heard the voice of the employee from before yell, "Coming, coming!" The voice was followed by several crashes and bangs. A miserable groan drifted beyond the door, and it occurred to Edward that he ought to be mildly concerned about the poor man's health.

"Um…hello? Are you all right back there?" he called. A weak acknowledgement was heard before there was a shifting of metal on metal and another loud crash. This time the noise was followed by a startled yelp, more shifting metal, and heavy footsteps. The employee burst out of the door with a panicked look on his face, turning around as quickly as he could to shut the door. He seemed to find this quite a difficult thing to do, as he was panting and red-faced, pushing with what seemed to be all his might and the door still wouldn't fully close. Edward stepped around the counter and placed his gloved hands flat against the door, the only sign he was straining himself his furrowed brow and slight scowl. Together the two men managed to shut the door firmly, and only once the white wooden door was locked, barricaded with two boxes, and charmed by the both of them did the employee fully relax. The brown-haired man collapsed against the side of the desk, sliding down to the dirty floor in a cloud of dust.

"Thank you…" he mumbled gratefully. He sat for a moment, regaining his breath while Edward and Somnel watched him with two curious gold eyes. After a minute he rather unwillingly lifted himself up from the ground, standing behind the desk while gesturing Edward to stand in front of it. He did so, and the employee cleared his throat and said, "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes," Edward replied, nodding towards Somnel's cage and carefully avoiding mentioning anything about _purchasing_ the prideful creature. The brown haired man glanced at the cage and, to Edward's surprise, seemed to understand.

"That'll be three gold galleons and six silver sickles." Edward nodded and produced the correct amount of money. Depositing the coins into some compartment behind the front desk, the employee seemed to dig in a drawer for a moment before finding what he was looking for. He handed a piece of thick, very worn, official looking parchment. Examining it, Edward realized it was a certificate of ownership. Quickly stuffing the document into one of his coat pockets, Edward unlatched the door of Somnel's cage; much to the employee's alarm. "Sir—!" Edward was startled too when the kaivul darted out of the cage with the agility of a water snake, landing on Edward's chest. Gently keeping himself attached to Edward's clothes with his claws, Somnel climbed up his front and settled himself around Edward's shoulders. The kaivul made sure not to stick his new partner with any of his claws, and gently wrapped the thin end of his tail around Edward's tanned neck. Quickly calming himself, Edward reflexively stroked the top of Somnel's head, which was right next to his right cheek.

Thanking the employee, Edward turned to leave. Picking up his suitcase by the door, he looked back over his shoulder and asked, "Need any help with whatever's behind that door?"

"No, no," the other man said, sounding very put out that his job prevented him from accepting the needed help. "It's just a case full of jumping leeches, nothing too terrible." Edward raised an eyebrow at him and turned around again, pushing the door open with the jingle of a bell. "Have a good day, sir!" he heard the employee call to him before the door gently shut.


	7. Chapter Seven: Drinks and Discussions

Disclaimer: If either Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist belonged to me, then certain people that I dislike would not exist. Instead, I would make villains and rivals and the like that were totally awesome and lovable so that no one could decide which side they wanted to succeed.

"The dark side has cookies…"

"Yeah, but they always lose."

"…So?!"

Chapter Seven: Drinks and Discussions

(Getting to Know You)

Edward took in a big breath of the early-night air as he stepped out into darkness. 'Shopping in these places seems to suck up a rather ridiculous amount of time,' he thought idly.

'**Feh,**' Somnel's grumpy voice sounded inside his head. '**All you humans waste so much time on meaningless things.**' Edward jumped a little at the kaivul's words. Somnel turned his head slightly, and Edward looked out the corner of his eye to see the light red creature give him a strange look.

'Sorry. I guess I'm not quite used to anyone but me knowing my thoughts.' Suddenly, a rather disturbing idea occurred to him. Before he could (mentally) voice it, however, Somnel cut him off.

'**Don't worry, I won't be able to read your mind, you'll still have your privacy; our bond is just very fresh right now, and the contact between our minds is very direct. Things will leak over easily for the next few days, but soon we'll only be able to hear thoughts we specifically direct at each other. Rest assured, you'll get the hang of it soon.' **Edward's shoulders slumped as he sighed in relief.

'Alright,' he replied. Then he picked up his pace, noticing the beginnings of the nighttime crowd of shoppers. His years in the world beyond the Gate had made him develop a rather intense dislike of excessive noise. As the number of people gradually increased, the amount of sound produced seemed to grow exponentially. It was beginning to irritate both alchemist and kaivul, and both were relieved when they reached the archway that signaled the end of Diagon Alley's long, shop lined street. Discretely slipping past a group of shoppers passing through, he made his way into the smoke-filled main room of the Leaky Cauldron. Taking a seat at the bar, he set his suitcase down beside his stool and ran a soothing hand over Somnel's head; the kaivul looked like it was distinctly _not_ enjoying the fumes that were drifting through the air.

"Edward! Fancy seeing ya again so soon!" Tom, the barkeeper, said with a crooked-toothed grin. "I reckon _now_ you'll be wantin' yer usual?" Edward gave a small smile.

"Yes please, Tom." To his surprise, however, instead of fetching his drink Tom leaned over the bar and seemed to peer curiously at him. Edward raised an eyebrow, sitting back a little farther on his barstool in an attempt to maintain his personal space. "Don' mind me, don' mind me," Tom said a bit absently. "I'm jus' admirin' that beau'iful creature you have there on yer shoulders." Somnel seemed to draw himself up proudly at the barkeeper's words, holding his head high and looking like he was trying to be kingly. Tom chuckled softly, gave Somnel another flattering compliment, and busied himself behind the counter with getting Edward's drink.

'You enjoyed that, didn't you,' Edward asked slightly accusingly. Somnel didn't dignify his comment with a response. At least, that was the general thought he sensed coming from the small dragon-like creature. Chuckling lightly, Edward accepted his drink from Tom with a light smile. He sipped it lightly, savoring the flavor of the magical drink. It only had a slight amount of alcohol in it, but the flavor was too strong for most people anyway. Somnel somehow managed to wrinkle his nose at the stuff, apparently because of the overly strong smell—that's what he told Edward in any case.

Edward sat at the bar for a while, drinking small mouthfuls of his overly strong drink and examining the various people around him. In the corner there was a pair of rather twitchy looking young witches that had their hands constantly hovering near their hip and forearm respectively; they kept glancing around them as if expecting monsters to leap from the shadows at any moment. There was a group of old men and women seated at a round table, seemingly playing exploding snap or something of the like. From the small piles of coins scattered in front of the players and in the center of the table, Edward figured they were betting; from the perfectly identical blank looks on two of the women's faces and the strange arrangement of chairs around the table, he guessed they were playing in teams, and he would bet a good deal of his own money that those two women would walk away from the game a good deal richer than the rest. Old to middle-aged women like that pair had a tendency to be surprisingly wily. A group of teenagers were sitting at the far end of the bar to his right, apparently trying to figure out some way to get served firewhiskey. Many other customers were scattered about the restaurant, and were engaged in conversations of varying subject and volume.

Finishing off his drink, Edward called Tom over and asked about a room. "Sure, we got a room fer yeh. I'm assumin' it's fer t'night only?" Tom asked, cleaning out a glass with a rag. At Edward's positive reply, he handed the blond man a small brass key with a raggedy blue ribbon tied at the top. Thanking the barkeeper and laying his fee on the bar counter, he picked up his suitcase and exited the room through a small side door, beginning to make his way up a steep and tightly curved set of wooden stairs. There was no light in the stairway, making him walk very slowly lest he stumble and—with his luck—break something. Most likely his nose or his neck.

He walked through the long, second storey hallway, almost as careful as he had been in the stairway due to the dim lighting. He squinted at the printed numbers on the doors, trying to find the one that matched his key. He stopped at a door that looked slightly newer and less shabby than most of the others, leaning forward in the dark to see the faded numbers. His pointed nose was mere centimeters from the wood of the door, but he was just able to make out the number '87'; the same as the number on his key. Placing the small piece of metal into the keyhole, he turned it until he heard a click. Edward pulled it out, turned the doorknob, and opened the door. Flicking on a nearby light switch, he was greeted by the sight of a single moderately large bed, a small bedside table with a lamp on it, and an old but sturdy looking writing desk. There was a door immediately to his right that he assumed led into the bathroom. Finding the room satisfactory, he closed the door behind him and walked in.

Setting his suitcase down at the foot of the bed, he sat down on the edge of the bed before lying down on top of the coverlet. Somnel crawled off of Edward's shoulders and stretched out his long body beside Edward. Setting his head on Edward's chest, he let out a long breath through his nostrils. '**You have no idea how much of a relief it is to be **_**doing**_** something again,**' he said, sounding rather grateful. '**So, now that we can actually settle down and talk, do you have any questions you want to get out of the way?**'

'I have a few questions,' Edward replied immediately. 'For starters, why have you been changing color so much?' Edward asked, referred to the fact that Somnel had been a dull red when he first saw him, a washed-out brick color after the mental bond had been established, and had slowly changed into a faded red color by the time they had reached the room.

"**Kaivul vary in color, but each kaivul is only a single color throughout their entire lives. The shade of our scales change depending on the level of energy circulating through us. Basically, the darker the color, the more powerful we are. Near black is basically the most powerful we can get—in such a state we could literally move mountains, though such a feat would use up all our energy and kill us. Keeping with that theme, white equals dead, and the lighter the color the weaker I am. I am not sure who or what decided that we be this way—it seems rather pointless to me—but that is simply how it is.**'

A little surprised, Edward asked, 'Second question. Why does my mental voice…' he trailed off.

'**Why does your mental voice show so much more emotion than your physical voice?**' Somnel finished for him. '**It is simply because emotions are more directly conveyed when speaking mind-to-mind. When speaking out loud you can manipulate tone, inflection and the like, but your mental voice displays what you are feeling and the general impression of your current thoughts. Next question?**'

Edward thought he was beginning to get it, but was unsure he would be able to remember all of the information. 'Uh…what sort of powers do you have?'

'**Basic levitation. Decreased gravity. The Gift of Tongues; we can communicate with animals as well as speak and understand any human language. Basic elemental manipulation. The ability to briefly establish communication between multiple minds. Strength disproportional to our size. General immunity to the abilities of most other magical creatures. Accelerated healing. Exceptionally long life—compared to humans at least.**' Edward waited a few seconds before he was sure Somnel was done.

'Wow,' Edward thought, impressed. 'If you're so powerful, how come you were trapped in that cage? Couldn't you have broken out rather easily?'

'**Yes,**' Somnel replied. '**I simply chose not to leave. There were no hunters trying to eat me, I was fed daily, and I could bother the other creatures in the shop. Those jumping spiders were especially fun to aggravate.**'

'You sound like you miss it.'

'**Of course not,**' Somnel replied, sounding offended. '**I now get to bother **_**you**_**—you are far more interesting, and I'm betting you can defend yourself in an argument much better than even some of the cats. I also have the feeling you have a tendency to get yourself right in the middle of lots of interesting dilemmas. Plus, having a mental bond allows me to communicate without using any power or hurting my jaw with strange languages.**'

Feeling a little relieved, Edward said, 'So I suppose with all those different abilities you have you're extremely powerful, am I correct?'

'**Compared to most creatures, yes; my kind are far more powerful and intelligent. However, many of our abilities use up quite a bit of power, so we refrain from using our powers when we do not need them. Also, if we relied on our special abilities alone we would become weak and complacent.**'

'Rather like wizards and witches have become these days. They would use a spell to fetch a book rather that get up and walk a few steps.'

Somnel huffed disapprovingly. '**How foolish.**' Edward fervently agreed. '**So,**' Somnel said after a moment's pause, '**Where are we going tomorrow?**'

Edward sighed lightly, knowing he had a lot of explaining ahead of him, and said, 'Hogwarts.'


	8. Chapter Eight: Trains and Tribulations

Disclaimer: If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter, several things would _not _have happened. Harry wouldn't have gone all angsty, and we would have seen a lot more of Izumi. And lots of other things would not have happened that did. Why Fred, why?!

Chapter Eight: Trains and Tribulations

Edward yawned widely, wishing that he had earplugs or something. The noise produced by the trains and hundreds of people in the train station was almost deafening. He leaned over the handle of his luggage cart, glancing at a cardboard box with holes in the side sitting innocently on top of his suitcase. 'How are you doing, Somnel?' he asked concernedly.

'**How well do you think I'm doing?**' Somnel said grumpily. '**I'm inside a box in an overloud, overpopulated human transportation base. I can't see anything, I think I'm going deaf, and I can barely fit in this angular contraption—you wouldn't believe how uncomfortable it is in here.**' Edward imagined that, if he could have seen Somnel's face, the kaivul would have a scowl frightening enough to make lesser men soil themselves.

'I'm sorry, Somnel. I'll let you out as soon as we get onto the platform. Then, when we get on the train, it will be much less noisy. Just bare with me.' Somnel merely grumbled. Looking up, Edward was happy to see the pillar separating platforms 9 and 10 in front of him. Positioning his cart, he steeled himself and ran at the pillar. A strange, cold sensation washed over him and he was through the barrier. Wheeling his cart several feet away from the barrier, he found a small niche in the wall and pulled out his wand. He waved it over the cardboard box, which disappeared. Somnel groaned and uncurled his long body, spreading himself out on Edward's suitcase; it was now the sole piece of luggage in his cart. Picking up the kaivul gingerly, Edward placed him on his shoulders and picked up his suitcase. Leaving his cart by the wall, he waded through the crowd and boarded the Hogwarts Express.

The train was large and crowded, with students milling all around trying to find empty compartments. Many of them gave him strange looks—seeing as he looked appeared to be in his late twenties and had a bright red snake/dragon-like creature draped around his shoulders, it was quite understandable. Finally, Edward managed to find a mostly empty compartment. The only occupant was an unusual looking girl with sun-bleached blond hair. She had large, electric blue eyes that were focused on the pages of an upside down magazine. She wore a necklace made of bottle caps on a long string, and small radishes hung from her earlobes. Her elegant chocolate-colored wand was tucked above her ear. She wore an off-white tank top and a long sky blue skirt under an overlarge black student's robe, with a purple and gold badge pinned to the front.

"May I sit here?" Edward said politely. The girl continued reading for a moment, and just as he was about to ask again she looked up at him.

"Yes…" she said in an airy, dreamy voice. Thanking her, he hefted up his suitcase and secured it in an overhead compartment. He turned and glanced back at her, finding that her large blue eyes were fixated on him. Or Somnel—that was more likely. Edward calmly raised an eyebrow and made a soft sort of humming noise in his throat; he noticed her eyes flicked slightly upwards, probably to focus on his face.

She was silent for several seconds before she slowly asked, "Is that a fuhrsnuk?"

Both Edward and Somnel looked rather confused. "Excuse me, a what?" Edward asked.

"Oh, if you don't know what it is, it isn't one. They always tell people what they are. And I suppose they're not red, either." She sounded slightly disappointed, but vaguely interested.

After quickly asking permission from Somnel, Edward explained, "He's a kaivul. His name is Somnel." Edward extended his left hand. "My name is Edward Elric. May I ask yours?"

She looked at him blankly. "My name is Luna Lovegood," she replied at last. She looked down. "Is there something wrong with your hand?"

"No," he said quickly, withdrawing it. He sat down on the opposite side of the compartment, across from her, and leaned back against the cushioned seat. Luna continued to stare at him for several seconds, and Edward met her eyes evenly. She eventually returned to reading her upside down magazine, and Edward took a small blue book from his jacket pocket. Both read in silence.

After a short while a harried-looking young man with messy black hair and emerald green eyes opened the door. He wore a pair of round wire-rimmed glasses and black robes over a pair of overlarge, worn jeans and a white button-up shirt. In the center of his forehead partly covered by his messy bangs was a thin, lightning-shaped scar. Just behind him carrying an odd cactus-like plant was an award looking boy with red, chubby cheeks and dull brown hair. He wore a long sleeved white shirt and loose black pants; with his chocolate-brown eyes and round face, he looked rather unimpressive.

"Excuse me," said the green-eyed boy somewhat nervously. He sounded a bit out of breath, and his cheeks were slightly red. "Can we sit here? Everywhere else is full." Both Luna and Edward took a moment to tear themselves away from their reading material, and when they did the two boys were met with twin blank stares from some of the most unusual eyes they had ever seen. Luna's eyes were a startling electric blue while Edward's were a captivating gold. Edward nodded slightly, and the boys took this as enough permission to claim their seats; Luna just continued to stare at them vacantly. Both boys heaved their trunks up into the overhead compartments, then claimed seats opposite each other by the window, as far away from the two already-present passengers as they could get. They struck up a rather awkward conversation, feeling the attentive stares of two sets of unique eyes continue to linger on them. They frequently sent indiscreet glances at their fellow passengers, and were unnerved when all they saw were attentive eyes and blank expressions. What was even worse, however, was the red dragon-like creature on the man's shoulders staring at them with golden eyes similar to his human perch. No one seemed to notice the fact that Luna appeared to be mimicking Edward and his partner.

At last (probably having grown bored), Luna looked back at her magazine and Edward followed suit, returning to his small but thick blue book. Somnel also averted his gaze. Unfortunately, the reprieve didn't last very long. Luna looked up from her magazine and asked rather suddenly, "Who are you?" Edward and Somnel looked up as well, seemingly interested in their answer.

The boys seemed quite startled to hear her speak, and stumbled over their words. "I'm Harry Potter," the green-eyed boy, now identified as Harry, said at last. "And this is Neville Longbottom," he added. Both Luna's and Edward's eyes lingered on Harry.

"Are you now?" Luna said, sounding both interesting and not at the same time.

"Um, yes," Harry replied.

"Good," Luna said, for no apparent reason. Edward gave her an odd look, which Somnel mirrored (as best he could with his extremely different facial features). Luna looked back down at her magazine, and silence resumed. Edward and Somnel again focused on the little blue book and left Harry and Neville to simply shift awkwardly in their seats. Neville began to talk to Harry about his "mimbulus mimbletonia", which was apparently the cactus-like potted plant he had sitting on his lap. Silence reined.

Soon a red headed girl with a smattering of freckles and warm brown eyes entered the compartment. Under her student's robes she wore a light blue tank top and slim-fit jeans, and in her hand was a large, battered-looking suitcase.

"Hello," she said cheerfully. "Hey Harry, Neville. How are you doing, Luna?" she asked the only other girl in the compartment, sitting beside her with no hesitation whatsoever after she had stowed her luggage.

"Oh…I'm fine," Luna said dreamily, her eyes fixed upon the red haired girl, who surprisingly didn't seem at all bothered by it. She turned to the only person in the compartment she didn't know, a handsome blond man with gold eyes and a strange red creature draped over his shoulders. He wore a grey button-up shirt and stiff black pants, along with a long dark brown coat and pristine white gloves. He was looking at her mildly, the gold-eyed creature giving her a similar look.

"My name is Ginny Weasley, what's yours?" she said in a friendly manner. Both man and creature paused for a moment.

"I'm Edward Elric," he said smoothly. "This is Somnel," Edward added, nodding his head slightly towards the red kaivul.

"Ah," said Ginny. An awkward silence fell over the compartment, interrupted only by the sound of the train's engine coming to life and the screeching of ancient wheels moving along rails. Covering a small yawn, Edward returned to his book. Ginny started a conversation with Harry and Neville, somehow managing to get Luna to participate in it as well.

Edward continued to read and silently converse with Somnel as the teenagers' conversation grew more fluent and relaxed. They spent about an hour in the same manner, ignoring the beautiful scenery they rushed by that was barely visible through the streaked window. Eventually, however, the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by the arrival of two Gryffindor prefects.

"Hey Harry," the boy said, his red hair going in all different directions. He was tall and lanky, with ill-fitting clothes and a smattering of freckles. A red prefect's badge was haphazardly pinned to his front.

"Hello Harry," said the girl. She had wavy brown hair, neat clothes, and a gleaming prefects badge on the front of her robes.

"Ron, Hermione," Harry greeted. Neville, Ginny and Luna acknowledged the new arrivals politely. The girl—Hermione—started talking a mile a minute to Harry, something about being sorry she and Ron had had to go in the prefects' compartment for most of the train and that they would have to leave to patrol and make sure no one got in trouble. The red head, Ron, occasionally got in a word or two, but he seemed to be having a tough time finding an lapse in speech so he could interrupt.

Edward and Somnel bore the incessant chatter in silence, until—"**Silence, human!**" Somnel growled angrily. Hermione instantly closed her mouth with a distinct click of teeth, and all the teenagers looked at Edward and the red kaivul on his shoulders baring its teeth in irritation.

"Did that—did you—it—just speak?" Hermione managed at last, being the first of the Hogwarts students to collect her wits. The echoing, deep voice issuing from Somnel and the strange, awkward mouth movements that accompanied his speech had everyone baffled. Harry, Luna, Ginny, and Neville knew it couldn't have been Edward; his voice was entirely different.

"**Yes, of course I did. Who did you think it was, a dust bunny?**" Somnel grumbled.

"N-no!" Hermione babbled, not wanting to offend an unknown magical creature. "It was just, your speech was so unnatural and sudden, and everyone else looked so surprised so I assumed if you could've spoken you would have before and then everyone else wouldn't look so _shocked—_"

"**Oh, be quiet. I'm not about to eat you or anything, so sit down and calm yourself. However, if you continue to communicate in such an annoying manner, I'll light a fire in your hair.**" Somnel seemed like he was about to go on, but his gold-eyed perch cut him off.

"Now, now, Somnel. You don't want to start scaring the students before the term's even started, do you?" He turned to Hermione. "I'm sorry for my partner's ill-manners, but there's not much I can do about it. My name is Edward Elric, and this is Somnel. May I ask your name?" He extended his left hand as he had done earlier when he had met Luna.

Barely visible surprise covered Hermione's face at the charming professor's composure, manners, and handsome face. She reached out her left hand, briefly wondering why he had extended his left instead of his right, and replied, "My name's Hermione Granger, new fifth-year Gryffindor prefect. This here is Ronald Weasely, the other Gryffindor prefect." She released Edward's hand and gestured to Ron, who shifted a bit awkwardly and offered a weak wave. "I assume you are the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Mister Elric?" she added, regaining her usual dignified, intellectual composure.

Edward smiled lightly at her, his eyes deceptively warm. "That is correct, Ms. Granger," he replied suavely. "This year I am the new Hogwarts Defense Against the Darks Arts instructor." He noticed several of the teenagers before him gave him sharp looks, especially Harry. He had heard about Harry Potter, of course. Who hadn't? In the wizarding world, nobody, but he had a different reason for making sure he knew about Harry Potter, the "Boy-Who-Lived". This "boy" was essential if Edward was ever going to return to his home, his friends, and his brother.

**Author's Notes:**

Okay, I have no excuses. I know I should've been doing author's notes from the start so everyone knows what the hell's going on, and this chapter is so _late_ and why am I not doing daily updates anymore? I don't have the time. Hah. Anyway, this is especially late because I've been on a school trip and has been fussy; it hasn't been letting me put up this next chapter.

When I'm describing people and their outfits, you may notice I make no mention of their shoes. That's because they _have_ no shoes. I stole them. They are walking barefoot all around the train and collecting magical foot fungus as their Herbology summer project. Yeah…

Not a lot of Somnel in this chapter. At least—not a lot of him talking. This is something to note—there is a visible difference between Somnel talking and when he speaks mind-to-mind. I'm actually quite surprised no one has asked about this yet, because I figured I would be explaining this many times to many people. Instead, I'm going to explain it now and refer back to this whenever anyone asks. _So._ Somnel always communicates in bold type, because that's just how important and awesome he is. When he is using his gift of tongues and speaking aloud, he speaks in bold type and quotes. When _anyone_ speaks mind-to-mind, it's single quotes; he uses bold type and single quotes. Get it?

FAQ: Where is Alphonse?

Answer: Not in the world of Harry Potter. Stop asking, you'll find out eventually. (Probably.)

Frequent Comment: Somnel rocks.

My Response: Yeah, I know. He does. He's a cross between my brother, my beta, and me. There's a lot of me in Somnel. He's also vaguely influenced by various anime/manga characters, but…meh.

Now, people, I want you to feel free to ask questions; I'll do my best to answer them, except if it reveals something from the plot. I won't ask for reviews, because I've noticed that those who ask often don't receive. Review if you want, feel free to flame, and keep on reading.

A tribute to my most beloved reviewer: Thank you very much, Suzuku90!


	9. Chapter Nine: With Chance of Lightening

D-I-S-C-L—how the hell do you come up with a cheer for the word 'disclaimer'? Hell if I know. I just know I don't own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Wheeeee…

3…2…1…commence!

Chapter Nine: Splendor with a Chance of Lightening

The train rumbled on, quietly jostling its passengers every now and then when it reached a particularly rough patch on the tracks. Edward sneezed into the bend of his elbow and made a small, irritated groan. Somnel glared at him reproachfully, his golden eyes narrowed. Edward returned the look, and Somnel huffed. Edward got up, stretched a little, and turned to the four students sharing the compartment with him. Hermione and Ron had left soon after coming in, only having time for a short break from their prefect duties. The remainder of the train ride had been somewhat awkward, but was now drawing to a close.

"Well," Edward said, looking around at his soon-to-be students. "I've got to go now. I'll see you at the feast." With that, he turned and walked out the door, holding one hand up in temporary farewell. Somnel wrapped his head around the front of Edward's neck and stared unnervingly at the students as the blond professor left. They exchanged looks, except for Luna who had gone back to her upside down issue of the _Quibbler_.

Edward blinked and yawned again, waiting a moment for his eyes to get used to the darkness. He had left his suitcase on the train, knowing it would be brought to his quarters later. He looked around, Somnel imitating him. They made a rather imposing image; a man in dark clothes with a snake-like creature wrapped around his shoulders, each staring out into the darkness with luminescent gold eyes. Both were attempting to spot their ride, which Edward had been notified about via owl. Somnel saw it first, shoving Edward's face to the side with one black-clawed foot. The kaivul's human perch scowled, brushed away the offending limb, and followed Somnel's line of sight. There, standing in the shadows underneath a large tree, was an emaciated sort of winged horse. It had red eyes, a black coat, wicked looking pointed teeth, and leathery wings that were each about as long as Edward was tall. The first thing that came to Edward's mind was 'demented chimera', but he soon realized that it was a thestral.

'**That's what we're getting to the school on?**' Somnel asked incredulously. '**Why couldn't we have just ridden in one of those carriages over there?**'

Edward gave him a weary look. 'Those carriages are pulled by thestrals, too. We're taking this because a thestral bearing me and you will get to the school faster than a thestral pulling a carriage full of kids.' Somnel's grumbled complaints quieted, but did not cease. Edward strode forward, glancing up briefly when he felt raindrops. 'Gaah…rain.'

'**Come on, let's go! Let's go!**' Somnel said suddenly, sounding uncharacteristically urgent.

'What's got you in such a hurry?' Edward asked, walking a little slower just to annoy his passenger.

'_**Lightening**_**, that's what! Rain means there's clouds which means there could be lightening! If there's any at all, it's going to hit us! Well, it won't effect me, but I'm guessing you'll be pretty much fried.**'

"What?!" Edward said aloud, rushing the rest of the way to the thestral, leaping on its back without pause. 'The hell why?' he asked Somnel in his head.

Somnel didn't respond, instead making a very unpleasant guttural sound in his throat. The thestral leapt into the air, beating its enormous wings as fast as it could. The creature and its two passengers sped towards the castle, getting soaked with the increasingly heavy rain. '**Long explanation made short, lightning likes kaivuls. Now lets **_**move!**_** I don't want to experience a severed mental bond a day after it's been established! Do you have any idea how much that would **_**hurt?**_'

'Your concern is touching,' Edward thought dryly as he urged the thestral to go faster. He squinted, trying to see through the now heavy rain. A smirk crossed his handsome face when he saw the main gates. "Come on, we're almost there," he encouraged the thestral. He was only slightly surprised by the whinny he received in response, and tightened his grip on the creature's neck as they neared the ground. The beast hit the ground running, pulling its wings in as it cantered across the cobblestones. Edward jumped off its back as it slowed to a walk, thanking it and running for the gate. Not even bothering to wonder why the gate seemed to be opening on its own for him, he raced inside. He leaned over and placed his palms on his thighs, trying to calm his breathing and quiet the pounding in his ears. When he was under control, he stood straight—just as the huge doors slammed shut behind him.

'Well!' he said to Somnel with a grin on his face. 'Not even dinner yet, and I've already nearly died. Or at least been nearly unpleasantly zapped.' He resettled Somnel around his shoulders, who had sunk his claws into his skin in order to stay on. 'Think it may be some sort of omen?'

'**…Feh. I don't care.**' Edward was slightly surprised to hear a slight tremor in the kaivul's mental voice. His grin widened, becoming decidedly wicked.

'Come now, don't tell me the great and terrible kaivul is afraid of heights?' he asked teasingly.

'**Uncomfortable.**' Edward blinked. Somnel sighed. '_**Uncomfortable **_**with heights. We live very close to the ground. When we hover, it's no more than a few feet off the ground. And personally, I'm not exactly an expert at hovering in the first place. Seriously, couldn't you have held onto me? It's not easy to stay on during a ride like that without snapping a few of your measly human bones.**'

'Sorry, Somnel. I'll try to be more considerate next time I'm fleeing for my life. Especially when it's pretty much your fault.' Somnel only huffed in reply. 'Oh look, company.'

'**What?**' Somnel said a bit stupidly.

Indeed, sweeping through the dimly lit corridor like something out of a bard's story was a fierce looking woman with emerald robes, wrinkles, and a strict look about her from her simple shoes to her severely pinned hair.

"Mister Elric, I presume?" she said stiffly. Edward nodded in reply. "Very good. I'm Professor McGonagall. I've been waiting for you to arrive. But I wasn't aware that you would be bringing this…"

"Kaivul," Edward supplied when he realized the reason for her pause.

"Of course. You may discuss the matter with the headmaster after the feast. Please follow me to the Great Hall." With that, she spun on her heal and walked back the direction she came from, not bothering to see if Edward was following her. He shrugged and followed after her, mockingly imitating the stiff way she walked. Somnel bit his ear, and he stopped, giving the kaivul a light smack on the nose.

"Here we are," McGonagall said, holding out a hand to the Great Hall. It was certainly deserving of its title, Edward decided. The walls reached up high enough that their edges disappeared in shadow, seemingly opening right up to the sky, forgoing the ceiling. At least, it appeared so. The sky was a dark, enchanting blue and decorating with a twinkling crowd of stars. Small, thin wisps of grey clouds added to the beautiful image of the evening sky, too dark to be day but too blue and light to be truly nighttime. The hall itself was large and warmly lit by thousands of simple floating candles. Four long tables were arranged, their narrow ends facing the wall that held the large main door Edward was looking in from. Long benches were positioned on both sides of every table, and another long table opposite the door was lined with wooden high-backed chairs. Most of the chairs were filled, while three remained empty: one beside the central chair holding a kind-looking old man, another huge chair at one end of the table, and the third next to a greasy-haired man with a nasty expression and a long hooked nose.

"Your seat is between Professor Snape and Professor Sprout." Edward turned to her, still a bit amazed at the splendor of the Hall. "That's the man in the dark robes and the woman in green. I am going to go prepare to receive the first year students. Feel free to take your seat. If you have any questions for now, I recommend that you ask Professor Sprout." With that, McGonagall left him standing in the large doorway and swept back down the hall they had come from.

Edward turned back to the Great Hall, and said "Wow," softly under his breath. He stepped through the large doorway and approached the long staff table, his plain brown shoes clicking audibly on the hard stone floor. The teacher's at the table were watching him appraisingly, especially the old man in the center (who Edward had met and knew was Dumbledore) and the man McGonagall had identified as Snape. He stopped several feet in front of the table and bowed slightly from the waist, allowing his long bangs to fall into his eyes.

"My name is Edward Elric. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"Now, now, Edward. Let us forgo such formalities, we are all friends here," Dumbledore said, the candlelight reflecting in his blue eyes like merry stars. "We shall have more complete introductions at the after-dinner staff meeting, but for now please take your seat by Professors Snape and Sprout." Dumbledore gestured to the chair with a wizened old hand. Edward bowed lightly again, and walked around the side of the staff table. He reached out a gloved hand to pull out his seat, not noticing Snape's subtle attention to the innocent white fabric. He sat down with a light sigh, feeling Somnel resettle himself around Edward's shoulders. Edward idly noticed that the tables were all set with rather nice gleaming metal cutlery, but no food was in the large serving bowls or on the wide platters. He guessed that waiters would bring it out.

In a few short minutes, the above-first year students begin filing into the room and taking their seats at the four long house tables. Edward's sharp golden eyes scanned the students attentively, Somnel doing the same from his place on Edward's shoulders.

'**Wow. They look **_**so **_**intelligent. And they're so **_**incredibly**_** quiet, too. It's no wonder why they're the dominating species on the planet. They all look so worthy of it,**' Somnel murmured nastily in Edward's head. His copious sarcasm would have been clearly evident to a four year old.

'Ah, give 'em a break, Somnel. They're just kids,' Edward said with an inner smirk. He kept his face smooth outwardly, wanting to at least make a decent first impression regardless of the somewhat questionable plans he had in store for the students. A minor scowl made its way onto his face, however, when one of the older Gryffindors gave his housemate a noogie, the younger boy letting out an overloud indignant squawk. 'Never mind…' Edward conceded.

The students seemed to have just gotten settled at the various tables when the large double doors swung open again, admitting a long stream of short, nervous-looking first years. Edward leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the wooden table and interlocking his fingers. His mouth was hidden behind his hands, but his golden eyes glinted with light interest. And candlelight.

McGonagall strode up the long floor of the Great Hall, leading the new students behind her. When she reached the short steps that led to the raised floor that held the teachers table, she held up a hand and stood beside a small, waiting stool in front of the table. On the stool was a very ragged, worn looking hat that was slumped on the wooden surface. It was rather unimpressive, until a large rip between the wide brim and the cone of the hat opened, and the hat came to life. It made a sound like it was clearing its throat, though it had no throat to clear. The hat straightened, and opened its 'mouth' wide:

"Hello to you students,

Good evening, welcome all!

Welcome to Hogwarts,

And its Great Hall!

I am the Sorting Hat,

I'll tell you where to go,

Which house is your best choice?

I'll look in your head and know!

Be it Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff,

Gryffindor, or Slytherin!

Put me on your head,

I'll show you where you'll thrive in!

Maybe wise Ravenclaw,

Where those of logic and wit

Can find their smart fellows

And never a problem quit!

Or kind Hufflepuff,

Where dwell the loyal and true

They're dependable and determined,

A Hufflepuff will always stand by you!

Maybe brave Gryffindor,

Courageous and strong

Lead them into trouble,

And they'll always come along!

Or cunning Slytherin,

Guileful and sly

They'll fight to the top,

Always reaching for the sky!

Now you young ones,

Dark times draw near!

Stand together, and fight,

Keep your loyalties clear!

United you can win,

Apart you will fail,

Fading to nothing more

Than some historic tale!

So be strong together,

But I bid you, use caution

Or you'll be spinning in circles,

Driving yourselves to exhaustion!"

The hat stilled on its stool, only occasionally shifting as if to see the various reactions of the gathered students. The awkward silence that followed the Sorting Hat's song was long and uncomfortable, no one really knowing what to do or wanting to take initiative. Eventually, a single set of clapping hands could be heard from the staff table. Dumbledore's wizened old hands came together in applause, the rest of the table gradually following suit. Edward didn't bother unlacing his fingers, merely tapping the pads of his thumbs together as Somnel sat statue-like on his shoulders. The poor kaivul didn't seem to really know what to think. The students didn't either, but joined hesitantly in the applause as well, and for a moment the hall was filled with scattered clapping and murmuring before silence reigned once more.

McGonagall cleared her throat, and seemingly out of thin air (which was actually quite possible), produced a thick scroll that she unrolled and glanced at.

"Abouk, Naza," she said in a stern voice. Almost as an afterthought, she snatched the hat of the stool by its worn top and held it at her side. From the ranks of the first years a particularly short, very pale girl with short black hair and huge brown eyes emerged. She made her way up the two small steps to the stool, and at McGonagall's quiet direction sat down. McGonagall placed the hat on the girl's head and stepped back. After only a few nervous seconds the rip in the hat opened again, the same voice that had sung the strange song announcing in a deafening bellow the word "RAVENCLAW!"

The girl sighed with relief and waited for McGonagall to pluck the hat from her head before she hopped off the stool and hurried a little faster than necessary towards one of the empty seats at the clapping Ravenclaw table.

The Sorting Ceremony continued in that fashion, with the first years sitting on the stool, getting the hat placed on their head, and being rather more loudly than necessary shouted into their proper House.

"Bourny, Susie" became a Hufflepuff… "Coone, Anna" was politely applauded in Ravenclaw… "Grenell, Sacharissa" was cheered into Slytherin… and several others after and in between were sorted. The first years, in alphabetical order by last name, were slowly dispersed into the four Houses. Edward feigned interest, but he could feel the hunger clawing at his belly and he was getting impatient. He hadn't had breakfast this morning and his lunch had been a joke.

'When will this _end…_' Edward moaned in his head. Somnel, having finally recovered from his shock at the animated hat's bizarre song, snickered nastily at him.

'_**Hungry**_**, eeeeeeeh?**' the kaivul teased. '**Wishing you had woken up earlier now, don't you? **_**Right**_**, Edward?**'

'Shut up,' Edward grumbled. 'Or you get nothing.' To his slight surprise, Somnel promptly shut up. He had thought his smart-mouthed new partner would say something witty and threaten to push his face into his plate, or something equally pleasant. Edward didn't question this small bit of luck, however. He knew when to just sit back and count his blessings.

Finally, "Kuratoa, Yusson" was placed into Slytherin, and there were no more first years left to sort. Dumbledore stood, spreading his arms wide.

"Welcome," he said warmly, looking out at the students. "Welcome." He looked out at the four long crowded tables with twinkling eyes. "New students, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Old students, _welcome back!_ Now, I have a few words for you, before we are able to partake in our splendid feast.

"First and foremost, I would like to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Mr. Edward Elric." Taking Dumbledore's words as his cue, Edward stood up and looked calmly out at the politely clapping students. He allowed a light smile to tug at his lips and inclined his head slightly, sitting back down with a slight rustle of fabric. Whispers passed between the students like wind in tree leaves, but died down as Dumbledore spoke again.

"Secondly, I have been asked by our caretaker, Mr. Filch, to remind you all that dungbombs, Whizbang fireworks, and any Zonko's products are not allowed in the halls. The full list of banned items is available on Mr. Filch's office door to be perused at your leisure.

"Thirdly, no magic is allowed in the halls, and the Dark Forest is _strictly_ forbidden to _all_ students." Edward noticed the slightest bit of guilty shifting from a small handful of students, including Harry Potter and a couple of his fellow Gryffindor sitting by him. "Also," Dumbledore continued, his voice grave, "As you were all informed before the beginning of summer break, the Dark Lord Voldemort has returned."

Edward noticed that most people flinched violently, winced, or reacted in other negative ways to the simple statement. '**What's wrong with them?**' Somnel remarked snidely, having recovered from Edward's earlier threat.

'Apparently,' Edward replied with disdain, 'These people are so wretchedly afraid of this Dark Lord that they can't even stand to hear his name. They call him "You-Know-Who". Doesn't that sound like it belongs in a children's game? Really, it's just too much.'

Unaware of the silent conversation taking place between the two gold-eyed beings sitting just a seat over from where he stood, Dumbledore forged on. "Over the summer, many sources may have provided you with many different items of information of varying accuracy. I tell you now that Voldemort has regained his body and his powers, and is a serious threat to all.

"Do not fear, however! The Dark Lord is not invincible, and mindless fear only gives him more power over you. Use caution, but keep in mind, that even in the darkest times, one simply needs to remember how to hope.

"And now, I believe I have postponed your meal long enough. Let the feast…begin!" Dumbledore waved his hand, and suddenly the serving plates and bowls were piled high with some of the tastiest looking food Edward had ever seen. He started slightly, idly noticing that a good deal of the first years did as well, some even falling off of the benches. Chuckling lightly, he reached out and started loading his plate, passing scraps up to Somnel as he ate.

"So, Professor Elric, correct?" a smooth, low baritone spoke from somewhere to his right. Edward set down his utensils, turning to a sallow-faced man with a rather large nose and lank, chin length black hair.

"That's correct," he replied carefully. He could tell this man was not someone to trifle with.

"I am Severus Snape, Potions Master," the man said, a light sneer evident in his voice but not his face. He extended his hand and Edward reached out his own, shaking the other professor's hand as lightly as his false arm could manage.

The man, Severus, withdrew his hand as quickly as good manners allowed. "If you don't mind my asking," he spoke smoothly, with a hint of general disdain, "what is that creature that is using you as a perch?"

"Oh, Somnel?" Edward said, keeping his voice light. "He's a kaivul." Mentally, he said, 'Talk to him. Maybe it'll freak him out a bit.' Somnel needed no further encouragement.

"**Pleasure. How are you, Professor Snape?**" he said, a bit snidely. Severus did not have the reaction Edward or Somnel were hoping for, merely raising a single dark eyebrow as Somnel's disjointed speech made its way out of his strangely moving maw. Other people, however, reacted in a way that more than made up for Severus' subdued response. On Edward's other side, the woman in green—he had forgotten her name—gave a startled little "Oh my!" and a very small, old looking man fell off the stack of books that kept him above table level. Somnel sniggered nastily, then said to no one in particular, "**Humans,**" in a mock-exasperated voice, the effect of it ruined when Edward dripped a bit of pumpkin juice on his snout.

As Somnel spluttered indignantly, Severus raised his eyebrow further and said dryly, "Indeed."

Author's Notes:

I don't really have any excuse whatsoever for putting this off for so long. Most of it has been written for a while, and I just needed to finish it. I am going on Winter Break soon, so hopefully that will give me a good amount of time to write. Thank the weather for this chapter though, because I have a snow day tomorrow and did not have to finish my homework today! Lucky you. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, I look forward to next time.

"It's awfully difficult to remain in a bad mood when the weather has decided the world should be soft and white and quiet. Just sucks the sulk right out of you."


	10. Petition

Greetings to the fine folk that moderate our site.

Myself, along with many, have been writing and posting on your fine site for years now, some of the better examples of up and coming writers out there are now suddenly finding some of the stories we've come to love at risk of being removed without the chance to even rectify our errors.

For some, that means the permanent loss of a story. While I don't have anything that I believe violates your terms of use, there are those out there that are never able to recover a story in its original form, this is something I find to be almost worthy of a legal action, as while we cannot claim ownership of a character, the stories are OURS and simply destroying them is something that is inexcusable.

It's quite easy to simply add an MA rating, additional filters or even a simple requirement for a free membership to read the stories presented here, and would cut down on hateful anonymous reviews and posts at the same time, so I have to question as to why such a thing, in all this time, simply wasn't added.

If you're worried about falsification of a registration then have an appropriate disclaimer and then there can be no dispute, you took your steps and the PARENTS didn't monitor their children, if that is even your concern. If it is more of a personal view or desire then please at least let people know and give them a chance to remove a story that you and yours find offensive, most people on the site are actually rather cordial when it comes to such requests.

While I cannot say for sure if this letter will even reach those that may be willing to listen, of if it's more akin to a wide spectrum purge in preparation for something bigger, please understand that you are going to be looseing a LARGE number of your writers, and thus your income from a lack of readers if there is not some level of action taken to help with this situation.

There is absolutely no point in having an "M" rating if the content is not, in fact, mature. I feel it would be both more fair and more practical to simply make the "M" rated section of the site unavailable to anyone who does not have a profile on . All users should have a date of birth put in during sign up. In this way you can ensure that M-rated fics are inaccessible to anyone who is not willing to verify that they are 18 years old or older. It is ridiculous to limit fanfictions in the way that you are proposing. While, yes, some stories are simply pornographic there are many times that adult situations or violence can be used to make a more effective point. It should not be in your power to make that judgment call. After all, the author of the best selling fiction series "50 Shades of Grey" had her start in erotic "Twilight" fanfiction, which only illustrates my point. For a website whose entire purpose is the proliferation of creativity, your attempts to stifle such works is at best hypocritical and at worst straight up censorship...which should be a dirty word for anyone who loves reading.

For those that may agree with this, please feel free to sign on and send this to the support server, maybe we can get some movement on this.

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